


Crocodile Eyes

by context_please



Series: A Million Little Pieces - Drabbles for Macx's Pushing Boundaries Series [2]
Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Australians are awesome, Character Study, Explicit Language, Gen, I have no regrets, Original Character(s), Sorry Not Sorry, This is a tribute, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/context_please/pseuds/context_please
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He watches as the pack mill about in the open. They’re here for their alpha. The Raptor Whisperer.</p><p>Drabble for Macx's Threshold Shift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crocodile Eyes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Macx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Threshold Shift](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4242024) by [Macx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx). 



> This is mostly every Australian stereotype ever. 
> 
> I am Australian, so I couldn't resist exploring Mick a little further. Gotta stand up for my fictional Aussies, here. The entire universe is American at this point.
> 
>  
> 
> In other news: this is actually a drabble for Macx, whose lovely characters I am, once again, borrowing. If you haven't read Tainted or Threshold Shift, what the fuck are you doing with your life? You need to read it. Now.
> 
> (You're welcome to stay, of course, but this probably won't make much sense. Good luck!)

Isla Nublar reminds him of Darwin. Of all the places in the world, it had to be _Darwin_.

It’s hot, filled with trees, and he feels like he’s breathing in misted water when he opens his mouth.

Fucking _Darwin_.

It’s kind of strange, actually. If he thinks about it logically, he knows it’s because of the tropical climate and their position relative to the equator that Isla Nublar and Darwin are so similar. But he’s not thinking about it logically – he’s thinking about the last time he was in Darwin, doing a six-month research stint at Crocodylus Park. He’d mostly been interested in the huge salties they had and their reptile facilities, but the gorgeous freshwater croc researcher hadn’t gone astray. Unfortunately, the next morning he’d woken to find his work-in-progress paper had been copied, and six months after that, Doctor Allison Pearson was being hailed for her contribution to science. Australian academics, he’s found, tend to be just as vicious as the wildlife. He fucking hates academics.

Luckily, that paper was just a small project – Mick’s life is still dedicated to paleontology, his lifelong search for the evolutionary chain that resulted in the Archaeopteryx, the turning point of dinosaur-bird evolution.

He’s done as much as he can when it comes to gene sequencing (which he admits it not his strong point), but he needs to observe dinosaur behavior to understand the deeper link between the two evolutionary groups.

When Alan asks Mick to study behind-the-scenes at Isla Nublar’s research-facility-turned-theme-park, he can’t say no.

The fourth time he comes to Jurassic World, he comes as a scientist.

Knowing he’s going to be up close and personal with (some approximation of) dinosaurs is practically his wet dream. As a kid, he’d loved dinosaurs – the world didn’t know much about them (he’s older than he cares to admit), but just the idea of a creature large enough to threaten a skyscraper was enough to enthrall him.

Growing up in Australia probably helped, too.

He remembers stopping at a river, once. His father had been driving for hours, and he’d gotten them hopelessly lost in the middle of nowhere. (That probably explained why they never went on family trips again.) They pulled up beside a lagoon to fill up their water bottles, and little Mick had stopped dead. What he’d originally thought was a log stared back at him. Its dark green eyes never moved from Mick, watching him as he backed away. The news warned people not to swim in lakes or rivers. Crocs can camouflage themselves to look like logs and tree branches, they said. They can leap clear out of the water and drag you back in, they said. Ten-year-old Mick Dundee looked into the eyes of a freshwater croc and knew it was true. Cool calculation was in its gaze, reptilian hunger beside it.

Mick nearly pissed his pants.

Since then, his life has sort of revolved around crocs. He’s driven by those crocodile eyes. Crocs and sharks were the closest thing to dinosaurs, and still are, in many ways. Croc and lizard behavior have taught him a lot about paleontology – now it’s time to see some (almost) real dinosaurs.

One of these days, he’s going to kiss Alan Grant for giving him this opportunity.

 

 

 

On the drive to the hotel, Alan sees fit to inform him that Mick is the first scientist to be allowed to see the raptors. Mick decides he owes Alan sexual favours. The raptors are bird descendants – Mick’s hoping they might be able to speed up his Archaeopteryx research.

‘Alan,’ he says loudly, making a sweeping gesture at himself. ‘I would like you to know that I am happy to repay you with sexual favours.’

His friend’s usual composure breaks and he’s choking on air.

‘I know I may be old, but don’t worry,’ Mick assures, eyebrows waggling madly, ‘I’ve still got it.’

Alan’s cheeks are too red for a grown man, and it’s hilarious. ‘…Why don’t you just send me some ANZAC biscuits instead?’

Mick just replies, ‘A lifetime’s supply coming right up.’

When Owen Grady laughs at his name, it’s not an isolated incident. His name is Mick Dundee (even though it’s actually Michael), so it’s not surprising. In fact, Crocodile Dundee is the only Australian movie most people around the world have seen, so he expects a comment every time he meets someone new. It doesn’t matter that he was born well over twenty years before the movie’s release (ain’t _that_ the kicker). Sometimes he thinks he was the inspiration for the character’s name. Other times, he wishes his parents had used the nickname ‘Mike’ instead of ‘Mick’.

But he’s got blond hair, blue eyes, and is called Mick Dundee. He embodies every Australian stereotype ever. Funnily enough, his hair is actually brown – he just spends so much time in the sun that it’s gone blonde. He even calls people ‘mate’, a bad habit left over from when he worked at the newsagents as a teenager. There are times Mick wonders if he’s subconsciously trying to become Crocodile Dundee.

He likes Owen Grady: the man has an easy laugh and the snap of intelligence behind his eyes. Owen knows what he’s doing – projects calm and confidence at the pack, who respond in turn. It’s the first time Mick’s seen a human interact so fully with a dinosaur, and it’s fascinating.

He watches as the pack mill about in the open. They’re here for their alpha. The Raptor Whisperer. Mick’s been observing reptiles and their keepers long enough to figure out that some people are talented. He’s been trained to watch keenly, file away information. After thirty years, he’d have to be an idiot to miss the talented people he comes into contact with. They are pretty awesome, and he always takes any advice they give him. It might be the difference between life and death, sometimes.

Mick watches as the raptors chase a wild chicken, looking a little devastated when it slips through the bars of the paddock and into a slightly safer environment. When he turns his eyes back to the raptors, one is watching him.

She’s gorgeous. There’s not a spot of fat on her – she’s lean and deadly. Her skin is dappled with greens and grey-blues, underbelly pale and vulnerable. The vivid blue streak down her side is intriguing. The markings are so obviously from the Black-Throated African Monitor Lizard it’s hard to ignore. It’s the first outward sign that the dinosaurs here are more than they appear. Her markings are so out of place. She’s a _living_ _reminder_ that the ‘dinosaurs’ here were lab experiments. They aren’t now – not by a long shot – but they did begin that way.

The way she looks at him is eerily familiar and completely alien. He feels ten years old again, staring down a wild croc. Yet this is a little different. The raptor’s amber eyes are cold and calculating, yes… and something more. There’s human intelligence right behind her pupils, self-awareness lurking in the background. Animal instinct has taken a back seat.

 _Shit_.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of her – shows her he’s not afraid of her. With Owen here and a fence between them, it’s almost true. He voices his thoughts slowly: ‘She’s the beta.’

Owen probably doesn’t realize he has a proud smile on his face as he introduces the raptors. Mick’s eyes follow his finger and catalogue the knowledge to write in his field journal later tonight. His eyes return to Blue.

‘She doesn’t like visitors,’ he says. There’s not really any reason to state the obvious, but it helps him gather his thoughts. He calms his own energy, tosses the fear out. He’s cautious – it’s good to be cautious around animals that can kill you in a second flat – yet he refuses to feel even a slither of terror. He trusts Owen.

‘She’s careful,’ Owen replies.

Alan was right. This kid is magnificent. He really is their alpha – and much more. He suspects not even Owen understands the depths of their bond. He does seem to know what he’s doing, though. Mick doesn’t doubt that for a second.

‘Good in a beta.’

‘I agree,’ Owen says, amusement in his tone. Blue huffs in obvious agreement – the timing is not coincidental. With that simple huff, she confirms every theory he has about Owen’s talent.

Mick asks about them – about their training. Owen tells him some bullshit about hand signals and whistles, like they’re cattle dogs. The raptors are anything but. And their bond is so much deeper than that. Merely observing this pack hierarchy is what he’s always wanted. He’s always been fascinated with pack dinosaurs. He anticipates these raptors are the exception to the rule, though. It’s worth the trip, though. The raptors are like barbed wire – shining beautifully in the sun, but deadly to touch.

‘Textbook,’ Mick says, and it is. Mick’s seen too many talented animal workers in action to be fooled, although he can see how others might be. He prods further. ‘No one would have believed it possible. Until you happened.’

Owen doesn’t look at him, attention on his girls. ‘They accepted me as the alpha,’ he states, as if that’s all there is to it.

Fuck it.

‘Not because of hand signals and whistles,’ Mick says.

Owen’s eyes are on him in a heartbeat, cool and intense as the raptors’. ‘Animal training involves a lot more and you know it, Mr. Dundee.’ His tone is defensive, and the use of Mick’s last name is just downright unnecessary.

Mick smiles at him, non-threatening. He hopes the message comes across. ‘Yeah, I do,’ he says softly. ‘Takes some talent. You seem to have it in spades.’

Alan’s arrival saves the kid from answering. Mick likes his friend, but he has some shitty timing.

Owen leaps with enthusiasm on the topic change he offers. They discuss Echo’s fangirl tendencies until Mick and Alan have to leave.

Mick Dundee isn’t worried. He’ll be back tomorrow, and he’ll give Owen someone to talk to.

Maybe he’ll even tell the kid about the other Grady he met. She’d loved the big cats as much as Owen loves his raptors. Maybe they know each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, you can actually see freshwater crocodiles in rivers. This is why we warn tourists not to swim in secluded areas in the outback. 
> 
> I do call people 'mate'. Guilty as charged. I work in retail and once I started to say it, I was doomed. Please learn from my mistakes and try not to fall into the 'mate' trend. Also, Darwin is awesome and I mean no disrespect. (It's also humid as fuck.)
> 
> As for the rest of this fic? Thanks Macx for being awesome and creating an Australian OC for me to create unnecessary backstory for, and for generally being a great writer.


End file.
